Cursed Inconvenient Timing
by Salkiethia
Summary: Shadow Fri-13/V-day Challenge. Prideship.


**Warning:** Friday 13th, crack-i-ness, challenge fic  
**Disclaimer: **This idea was not mine. Shadow made me~ (And YGO is not mine.)  
**"Forgive Me"s: **Miko, D, Kami...Nen, you were in it, but then the boys gave up on complaining about having happy endings. And...Shadow, again: I mutilated your idea. This is what happens when I type without sleep. ^^"

* * *

"You know, for once it would be nice if you would refrain from spamming my inbox," Kaiba commented as he heard the door to his office open. "I don't need all the suggestive writing flooding through my work space." The brunet turned in the chair, an eyebrow raised. His fingers were laced together, and he leaned forward, elbows resting on the desk, as his chin rested in turn atop his hands.

Yami laughed, closing the door behind himself. The 'click!' sounded loud in the near silence. "You do realize most of those so-called spam emails have given us a few fun ideas to try, right?" he asked, purring as he made his way across the room.

"That's beside the point," Kaiba answered dismissively. "Just because they've proven…useful…at times does not mean I wish to have them following me around _everywhere._ What would I do if my employees came across one?"

Yami tilted his head. "Threaten to fire them?" he suggested. "It always works in the stories."

Kaiba snorted in reply. "The stories _also_ say you're an ancient Egyptian spirit, that I ran a multi-billion dollar corporation at age sixteen, and that most people in Japan speak grammatically skewed English."

"I think it's called 'Engrish,' Kai-baby."

The brunet scowled. "I _will_ kill whoever gave you the idea for that particular nickname."

Yami perched on the desk, smirking. "Well, you already know that that bnomiko character 'accidentally' landed you with that nickname. Go kill her." He laughed at the surly look Kaiba threw him. "You _said_ you would kill whoever gave me the nickname, didn't you, _Kai-baby?_"

Kaiba growled something unintelligible at Yami. The shorter male draped himself onto his taller partner's body, a wicked smile across his face. The brunet attempted to shift Yami off his lap; for all Kaiba's maneuvering, Yami refused to be pushed away. Finally, convinced that he'd never get any work done at this rate, Kaiba pressed an open-mouth kiss onto Yami's lips, obeying the rush of odd desire that signaled the start of another writing spree…somewhere in the world.

"Fuck," Yami panted, prying himself away for a breather. "Whoever is writing this one…"

"Shut the hell up," Kaiba growled, his fingers twisting into Yami's hair and pulling the other male's head back to expose his neck. The brunet's mouth dipped down to bite at the uncovered skin.

Yami groaned, then growled, pushing Kaiba away, his face creasing with aggravation. "My _god_, what do you think you're _doing?_" he whined, wincing at the girlishly high pitched voice that escaped him.

"We're _obviously_ destined for one another, so stop fighting and take your clothes off."

"…"

The weirdness faded out and Kaiba put a hand over his eyes. "Please tell me that did not just happen." Instead of reassuring him, Yami just snorted, slipping back onto Kaiba's lap.

"Baby, it just happened."

Kaiba's murderous glare reflected Yami's sentiments exactly. "I'm going to end up killing some of these shippers one day."

Yami nibbled delicately on Kaiba's lower jaw. "Don't be like that baby. You keep saying it, but I think you secretly like it." He smirked when Kaiba glared at him. One hand reached out to caress Kaiba's cheek. "Almost everyone says you're kinky as hell," the shorter male pointed out, trying to make his point seem obvious rather than absurd.

"'Everyone' doesn't know what they're talking about," Kaiba muttered. "_You_ are most assuredly the kinky one."

Yami shrugged, leaning back against Kaiba's desk, his legs still straddling the other's slim hips. "You _are_ pretty kinky, though," he argued. "Whose idea was it to fuck with the garage door open?"

"That was –" Kaiba began to protest, but Yami cut him off.

"Whose idea was it to visit the cemetery and play around there? Who wanted to try out bondage? Who –"

"Who wanted to go skinny-dipping during a picnic?" Kaiba challenged, a superior grin crossing his face.

Yami's brow furred in confusion. "Baby, that was my idea."

"Exactly."

"…"

"And I only wanted to try those things _after_ those damn stories you sent me."

There was a moment of silence, while Yami simply stared at the brunet, head tilted to the side slightly. He opened his mouth, then closed it, a frown creasing his face. "In my own defense…it was Desidera's story that made me ask you to go on a picnic…"

Kaiba's smirk widened. "But you still did it," he continued, his air that of one who had gained the higher ground and refused to let go. "Which means either you null your argument about _my_ kinkiness, or admit your own."

"Talk about something else?" Yami hinted, nuzzling forward again, rubbing his pelvis suggestively against Kaiba's hips.

"Not until you admit that _you_ are the kinky one."

Yami made a face. "Fine, fine. I'm kinky you're not, whatever –" his hips kept rocking, "- now can we _please_ –"

The phone rang.

"Oh, fuck it!" Yami growled, reaching out to pull the phone off the hook and pressed it to Kaiba's ear.

The brunet reacted slightly slower, pausing for a moment before gathering his wits enough to say "Hello?" into the receiver. Slowly a glare built over his features. Yami couldn't understand the indistinct mutterings coming from the other end of the line, but he could hear Kaiba's part in the conversation, and it seemed that the brunet was becoming slightly irked.

"I have to go," Kaiba muttered when he hung up. "I'll meet you at home."

Yami tilted his head, but nodded finally. "All right, Kai-baby," he murmured. "I'll meet you at home."

---

Yami was curled up on the couch when his boyfriend came home. Kaiba walked into the room, a disconcerted expression on his face.

"Something wrong?" The red-eyed duelist uncurled gracefully, getting to his feet, making a movement towards Kaiba.

The taller duelist waved him away. "Fine, fine," he muttered.

Yami tilted his head. It didn't seem like he was fine. "Are you sure?" he inquired.

"I'm fine!" Kaiba yelled back. Yami winced away, and retreated back to the couch, curling up once more, except this time, he was not relaxed. Tense…he was tense. Kaiba didn't notice. The brunet stalked through the living room, and went into the hall, vanishing out of sight, leaving Yami behind, wondering.

Finally, he stood up and trailed after the brunet, his curiosity too great to be dissuaded so easily. When Yami finally found Kaiba – the billionaire had decided to go upstairs and seclude himself in the attic-wanna-be – he sat down, and looked to the other for a while.

Eventually, Kaiba did speak.

"It's Friday."

"Yeah…and?" Yami knew it was Friday. What he didn't understand was why Kaiba's response to the day of the week was so…strange. Usually the CEO had a tendency to be short with the rest of the household during the early days of the week; Friday was almost a celebration day.

"What day is tomorrow, Yami?" Kaiba asked, his voice hard.

Tomorrow…well, Yami knew perfectly well what _tomorrow_ was. Tomorrow was the day for which he'd spent most of the week preparing.

Valentine's.

Exactly how dense did Seto think he was?

Apparently quite…because for the life of him, Yami couldn't see a connection between Friday and the beautiful Saturday, Valentine's Day, he had planned. Chocolate, perhaps an escape from Mokuba for a few hours –

"The fourteenth, Yami," Kaiba growled. "Which makes _today_ –"

The thirteenth. And…a Friday.

It seemed an incredible irony to Yami that Kaiba – who vehemently denied that fate and pre-determined destiny existed – should be so wrapped up in superstitions. Friday the thirteenth. What could _possibly_ have gone wrong today? Hadn't Seto and he been fine earlier (with the exception of the rampant writers, of course)? But…things still had seemed relatively normal.

"Did you finish your project?" Yami inquired, hesitantly.

Bright blue eyes narrowed. "No."

Odd. He wouldn't have come home if he hadn't finished, under normal circumstances. (Though, Yami had to admit, it was hardly 'normal' when something supposedly supernatural was involved.)

"Then –"

"Because I have good news…and bad news."

"What's the good news?" Yami figured he might as well know now, so he could figure out what would make Kaiba feel better…and how to fix this mood.

"Well, in a revolutionary change of plans, Sal has decided to give us Valentine's Day off."

Yami cocked his head. "Isn't that a good thing?" he inquired, his head tilted. It seemed Seto was ready to give a lengthy explanation, but then opted to cut it short. Instead of a long-winded clarification of events, Kaiba simply muttered something that was relatively indecipherable (though if Yami guessed correctly, it was also something unutterable in polite society).

Kaiba was still glaring, his attitude completely cavalier; "You _do_ realize he didn't give us the thirteenth off."

A frown came over Yami's face as he realized what that meant. "Oh…shit." He paused. The air seemed to gain a slight evocation of paranoia.

In search of "universal truth" the evil author had created multiple worlds with symbolic overloads and a tendency to die.

"Are you sure we have V-day off?" Yami asked nervously.

"Yes," Kaiba asserted. "One day when we don't have to worry about being maimed, tortured or emotionally crippled."

Yami sighed, leaning against Kaiba. "Then shouldn't you be glad?"

"We still don't have today off," Kaiba warned.

Yami shrugged. "Well, can't have everything. I'm going to go pick up some more chocolate for tomorrow." He wandered towards the door, pausing to glance back over his shoulder. "You'll be okay, Kai-baby?"

Kaiba nodded.

"Look on the bright side," Yami offered. "At least we aren't in one of Sal's stories _now_ – characters have a tendency to die in those." He stepped out the door.

"YAMI!"

The next morning would have a headline about Kaiba Corp's CEO's boyfriend getting killed by a falling grand piano. But I can't be bothered to write that. Cursed inconvenient timing.


End file.
